A new haircut and a raw food chaser

I must say that today was a much better day than yesterday. Days that I have bad headaches don't even feel like days rooted in reality. I'm seriously a different person on those days: rooted in my own wretchedness!

Today I did get a haircut, though. It's so great that I don't have to lose my hair for this operation--you know the one where I basically get scalped and my brains scooped out--yeah, no head shaving. So I decided that I should at least cut my hair shorter than usual (there's a picture of me post-haircut below, you probably wouldn't have guessed it). Apparently there's gonna be a bunch of goo all over it during and after the operation. That doesn't go well with long flowing locks, now does it? Anyhoo, the barber I went to is called The Beatnik Barbershop. He's no Michelle (she's my Philly hairstylist. Here's my plug for her at Ground Zero South located in the lovely Sweat Gym on Passyunk--go to her) but it was damn close and full of character. I just remember staring at a painting of a big black boxer who obviously had it out for me and me alone. I was scared. What? He was punching the air. How was I supposed to feel?


After the Haircut, we ventured down to a cool little raw food shop for lunch. It's called the Yabba Pot Cafe, and there was some delicious Kale and Spinach salad (what the H are we gonna do with me and my newly acquired vegan tastes?) My parents got some really good cooked Indian curry, rice, plantains and black beans. It's so sad. Even that looked really good. I think my ability to appreciate food has somehow migrated from the lower eschelons of food craving to a place that exists on some kind of higher plain. For example, instead of craving ice cream with chocolate syrup (which is still enticing by the way), I just want some fruit. I haven't had fruit in months. Tomatoes are my new fruit; a friggin' raspberry would be incredible.